Of Fire and Alchemy
by Raikou Ikazuchi
Summary: AU In this land, power and knowledge reside in the ancient race of the elves. So why is Roy, a mere human, chosen to stop the next dark age? But he's not alone. He's got a pair of elves... a pair of blond, brother elves with him... Chapter 4 up, finally
1. Chapter One

Of Fire and Alchemy

Warnings: Yaoi, Roy/Ed and Havoc/Fury. Um… also Restored!Al/Winry, spoilers for episode 52, I guess. Alternate Universe.

Disclaimer: I don't own FMA. I also do the driest disclaimers.

> > > > >

Perhaps, thought Mustang, now was the time to run. Yes, he decided, staring into the flaming mess that once was a farmhouse, running was going to be a very good idea. He tensed and turned, his navy-colored tunic whirling about him. Running before the guards and neighbors came to investigate may be cowardly, but at least he'd live to see another day. And there was nothing here left anyway. What was the point of sticking around?

So Mustang turned and ran away from the fiery mass that was once his home, eradicating any indication that he was ever there in the first place. So by the time the guards came, there was nothing but a smoldering pile of cinders. No bodies, no animals, nothing at all that didn't point to a simple campfire gone wrong. There was absolutely no evidence that anyone had started the fire. It was an accident, a mistake. It was just an old farmhouse, anyhow. Who really cared about it? The land was dry, rocky, and no good at all.

Therefore, Mustang was surprised when, the next day, he was the most notorious person in all of Aerugo.

So he ran again, and didn't stop until he had entered Amestris.

> > > > >

An indignant shriek shattered the somewhat peaceful evening air of the Central City courthouse, bouncing off the corridor walls and echoing in the near-emptiness.

Roy looked up from where he was sitting at the screams coming from just outside his chambers. He groped for a bookmark, actually wondering if it was worth it being the military leader to have to put up with these things all day. What was it this time, he wondered. Perhaps another troublemaking servant or maybe it was a rebel. At the last thought, he snapped his book shut, anticipating the new arrival. Rebels weren't going to get their way this time, Roy had already decided.

Instead, a small cage was pushed through the door, much to Roy's surprise. What surprised him even more were the creatures inside. Well, he thought. This was certainly something new. He had heard the rumors, of course, and talked to the witnesses. But he never expected the culprits to be captured so quickly.

Elves.

A pair of blazing golden eyes glaring at him sent chills up his spine, and the feral snarl almost made him back up. Almost. Instead, he shifted his attention to the other passenger, the much quieter and less scary one. The other watched him carefully with ashen-gray eyes, studying him, analyzing him. Gray-eyes hadn't said a word, but occasionally reached out, trying to calm the other down. Both had the characteristics of elves: pointed ears, golden hair, and a demonic aura about them. Roy came to his conclusion almost immediately. He stood up and faced the person who had brought the elves in, pointing to the cage.

"Tell me, Havoc… are they a mated pair?"

Two things happened at once.

The bars of the titanium cage shuddered where the wilder elf's shoulder slammed into them. At that, the quiet one darted forth and grabbed the other, trying to soothe the agitated nerves. There was growling, fuming, and screaming in a tongue Roy vaguely recognized as Elvish, though he couldn't discern the words. The taller mumbled something in a whisper and the shorter seemed to be on the verge of calming down before launching at the bars again. And High Guard Havoc almost smiled, almost, but shook his head instead.

"No. My assistant, Fury, you know, the young scholar, helped me. And these are brothers, sir. Not mated. Though it sure looks like it, doesn't it?"

The cage shuddered again, followed by an earsplitting howl.

"Can they speak Common?" Roy asked in the same calm tone, ignoring the wild elf's desperate attempts to escape.

Havoc only shrugged.

"I don't know sir. Neither has said a word since their capture. As far as I know, they only know their native tongue."

Roy was quiet for a moment, examining the elves again. He looked like he was going to ask Havoc something else, but decided against it.

"Thank you very much, High Guard. You are dismissed."

Havoc bowed and went to look for Fury.

Roy looked with a sharp eye at the elves. They truly were fascinating creatures; they knew the ancient art of Alchemy. If, he once thought, Elves taught humans how to use alchemy… why, that could change the world! They could create all kinds of contraptions that would help improve life as he knew it. And not only that. Alchemy also included healing sciences, even, Roy had heard, resurrection was possible. So he had immersed himself in the study of the elves, learning their culture, language, though he had only seen one in real life very few times. And now he just had a pair of them delivered to his bedroom in a gift box.

Roy knew that elves hated confinement, so he planned to confine them for as long as possible. If that didn't make them talk to him, he didn't know what would.

Roy squatted so he was eye-level with the quiet one, who was sitting placidly and almost not taking notice of his brother trying to break free.

"Se kahi ano ranai ekoso?"

The gray-eyed one looked at Roy with surprise, and the golden-eyed one stopped what he was doing. They both stared at Roy with wonder, though they remained silent.

"Se kahi ano ranai ekoso?" Roy repeated patiently, watching for another reaction.

"Stop that fake Elvish." Golden-eyes responded. "You're saying it all wrong."

Roy almost smiled to himself. So that got him speaking, eh? "Then tell me your names." He said, a faint glimmer of triumph behind his onyx eyes.

"It's 'KAH-hee.' Not 'kah-EE.'" He kept going, ignoring Roy's question. "And I don't even know what 'Ekoso' is. It's 'Eikaba.' 'EE-kah-bah.'"

Roy sat down, ready to listen to the shorter ramble. But the analytical elf muttered something too low and fast for Roy to catch, and the loud one immediately shut up. They both glared at him through defiant eyes, making it obvious that they weren't intending on saying anything else. Even though, Roy waited for about a minute. Maybe he had misinterpreted the signals. But when the two refused to speak again, Roy could do nothing else.

So he walked back over to his desk and began reading his book again. He was satisfied to let them keep their peace. They'd crack soon.

He hoped.

> > > > >

Four days later Roy was ready to tear his hair out.

It was on the first day that he learned that these elves were nocturnal. He had also learned that the loud one extremely disliked him and was set on making his life as miserable as possible, starting with keeping him up all night with long and loud recitations of famous poems of the time. This torture then moved to throwing any excess food out of the cage, managing to turn Roy's bedroom into an edible war zone within minutes. The taller elf had muttered things when the shorter had started this obsession, but soon gave up and instead just watched as Roy was tormented, waiting for the older man to snap and kick them out.

But no such luck.

Instead, much to the elves' chagrin, Roy only seemed to grow even more patient, cleaning up any mess that was made, sometimes even finishing the golden-eyed elf's stanzas when he forgot a line or two. Yet neither side was willing to give up, despite the misery and insanity. The quiet elf was almost distressed. Not only was his brother not getting any sleep, neither was he. He was tired, and at the end of 11 days he finally decided to just give up.

_"No, Al!"_ the golden-eyed boy had said when informed of the plan. _"I've got him on the breaking point. I know it. That wood-louse is going to snap soon. You don't need to do anything that may give us away."_

_"Brother, stop it. I know you're tired of this. I'M tired of this. Perhaps we should just tell him what he wants and get out of here."_

_"No way. You were the one to suggest that we keep our silence first, remember?"_

_"I had no idea the human was so stubborn. I thought he'd go crazy within the first two days. Brother, if he is so intent on learning about us, we may never get out of here."_

_"There's no possible way that's going to happen. We'd get out eventually, and I know he's about to snap NOW."_

_"You are far too stubborn for your own good as well. If we stay here any longer Hughes will worry and who knows what he'll do to get us back."_

_"It's his fault if he gets into trouble. Not ours."_

_"Edward!"_

Ed winced. It was only on rare and angry occasions that his younger brother used his real name. He must have said something bad again. Al glared at him, and for the first time Ed noticed that Al really was speaking the truth. He looked tired, and Ed was undoubtedly tired as well. So with a sigh of resignation and a dark grumble, Ed slumped against the side of the cage, giving his brother his way.

Roy had looked up from his parchment as soon as the brothers had started arguing. He could only pick up a few things here and there, but he did manage to figure out Ed and Al's names. That was progress. He saw Ed give up and continued watching, obviously expecting something. Al filled his expectations, waving him over. Roy didn't move. Al sighed.

"Excuse me, sir, but… can you please come over here?" Al asked politely, looking Roy straight in the eyes. Satisfied, Roy walked over to the brothers, ready to ask his questions.

"So… I overheard you talking." Roy began. Ed twitched but didn't move otherwise. Al only nodded.

"Yes," He responded. "That was what I meant to do. You know our names now, so there's no point in going through that. I know you've studied Elvish at one point, even if the language is vague… where did you learn it?"

"I believe _I_ was the one who was going to ask the questions."

Al bit down on his tongue and nodded.

"But can you at least tell us whose bedroom we've been living in for the past week and a half?"

"My name is Roy."

Both Al and Ed started at this.

"Roy-"

"He's the-"

"Can it be?"

"Are you really-?"

"Roy MUSTANG?!" The elves chorused, staring at him with panic-ridden eyes. This was certainly an interesting reaction. Curious, Roy tried moving closer to the brothers, but Ed started growling and backed both himself and Al into the farthest corner, as if ready to defend his younger brother at any sudden attack.

Roy could only answer simply:

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

> > > > >

AN: I know I usually work on holiday specials, but I HAD to write something. The computer called to me… (gonk) So this story was created. I know it is short right now, but I'm still sort of sketching out the plot. It'll be interesting, if anything, I can promise that. Maybe I'll post up the first chapter of the Valentine's Day special soon. I don't know. I'm rambling again, aren't I? Well anyhow, there's going to be a side-story about Mustang at the beginning of each chapter and I have no idea why I'm doing it. Oh well. I think I was inspired by this fanart I saw of Takuya and Kouji from Digimon Frontier where Kouji was an elf and Takuya was this pyro-demon. It was weird… Um… equivalent trade? I give story, you give reviews? Please? (puppy dog eyes) (2005 words exactly! Whoot!)


	2. Chapter Two

Of Fire and Alchemy

Disclaimer: I don't own FMA.

Warnings: Later Roy/Ed, Havoc/Fury, Restored!Al/Winry, Alternate Universe

> > > > >

Chapter 2

Amestris was surrounded by a high wall, almost thirty feet in height. The roadway ended in a locked iron gate fringed by precariously watchful guards. Mustang watched with hawk eyes, observing quietly the serene forest around him. He knew it was stupid to try and attack them or sneak through the gate with a disguise on. Nothing could hide his features well enough. Black hair and black eyes may have been common enough, but shockingly sharp eyes were rare for a farmer. Mustang did not know why, but there had been such a bounty placed on his head that even the most peaceful of priests would not resist hunting him down. Everyone knew who he was. Everyone knew all about him.

So why didn't he?

Oddly enough, Mustang could recall only fragments of memories before the fire. He knew the basic facts; what everything was and what his name was, but any events he tried to call up were blurry and incomplete. Mustang found, to his surprise, he couldn't even recall his mother's face or his father's, in fact. He remembered a head of blond hair, and another of black. Wasn't his father enlisted in the military? Or was he a merchant? No… it was his mother that was a merchant, right?

Mustang sighed and rubbed the tips of his gloved fingers to his temples. And another thing: what the hell was the pattern on the back of his gloves mean? He had never seen them before, and though, he admitted, it was a surprisingly unique and attractive pattern, it was at the same time somewhat eerie. They reminded him of _something_, but he just couldn't figure out what. His memories were too messed up, too scrambled to be anything of worth. Yet he couldn't let go of them, afraid that he'd forget absolutely everything if he did. Confusing memories were better than having no memories at all.

Mustang suddenly had an idea. He waited until the guards were switched, and, in that moment of looser security, shimmied up a tree (dodging all arrows) and jumped over the wall. He crash landed on the other side, groaning a bit as his left ankle twisted from under him and he fell to the ground. But a minute later, despite the pain, he was up and running again.

The guards behind him gave a shout of protest, then the gate was opened and they filed in. Mustang hadn't stop running, his feet bruised and sore and his ankle throbbing. As he came to a large stream, the guards catching up, he did not go over the bridge and instead jumped in the water, swimming downstream with the swift current. The guards could only shout and wave their swords, their capture being too far for them to do anything.

Out of nowhere an arrow whistled through the air and embedded itself into the back of Mustang's right shoulder.

He screamed, inhaled water instead, and choked. The current pulled him under and though he struggled and kicked, it did nothing and Mustang soon sank to the bottom in a swirl of reddened water.

> > > > >

Edward fiddled with the metal collar around his neck, trying to break free of its hold. It annoyed him to a great extent, hanging heavy around his neck. And it was also because of the confounded collar that he was blocked from his alchemy. Not only that, but it chafed against his neck and shoulder, leaving painful scrape and rub marks wherever it was. Al had told him the only reason it scraped against him was because he moved around so much, and if he stayed still it wouldn't hurt anymore. Ed had taken this to heart for a while, seeing that Al had no problems with the collar, but restlessness soon overtook him and he forgot Al's advice. Elves weren't supposed to be locked up, damn it! They were supposed to be living in the woods, where there was a lot of open space. It wasn't claustrophobia, but it was unnatural. And boring!

Al had been talking to Roy for a while now, and Ed dearly hoped his younger brother wasn't giving away too much about them. Not that he wasn't listening. Of course not. He was just not caring. Stupid nosy human; who did he think he was? Didn't he know the elves were greater than him? Didn't he know he shouldn't be meddling in their affairs? Didn't he?!

Al suddenly stopped talking and Ed looked up from his musings. The gray-eyed elf had a look of shock, or confusion on his face.

"What?" He asked, staring with disbelief at Roy. The human ceaselessly surprised him!

"You heard me. I said, teach me alchemy."

Ed leapt up at that, ignoring the collar chafing his neck. How dare he? Alchemy was the ancient science reserved for the elves and ONLY the elves. How dare he even REQUEST to try and learn it? Both Al and Roy went silent at his reaction, the latter watching him carefully.

"You- How dare- Stupid hum-" Ed stuttered, his fury exceeding his speech. "You're toying with us. You know we're not allowed, NOT GOING to teach you alchemy and you still dare to ask something like that?!"

Al had backed into a corner far away from his brother. Ed was scary when he was mad. He was like a rabid tiger, only wilder. Out of instinct, Ed clapped and was about to turn the cage into a sword… preferably a very sharp sword when the collar hummed, glowed, and sent bolts of mind-numbing pain throughout his body. Ed spilled onto the floor, twitching with pain in a disturbing sort of fashion.

_"Damn it!"_ Ed screamed in Elvish, struggling to stand back up. He shook his head clear of the black around the edges and raised his head defiantly to still glare at Roy. Al, alarmed, helped his brother up, supporting the golden-eyed one and mumbling something.

_"Did you forget we can't use alchemy? Try that next time and you could be killed!"_

_"He dared to ASK about alchemy, Al! He's just an impudent human. Why are you even telling him this much?"_

_"If I don't, who will? I know you sure won't. And then we'd never get out of here. It was the only smart thing to do, Brother. And anyhow, I'm not telling him that much!"_

Edward had no answer. Instead, he pushed away from his brother and sat in a corner of the cage, sulking and occasionally shooting a lethal glare at Roy. Stupid, insignificant, impudent human…

Said human was watching Edward carefully. There was something about this elf that he found extraordinarily… familiar. It wasn't the hair or the personality… perhaps it was the attitude? Or… Roy thought harder. Was it his eyes? Even for an elf, golden eyes were rare. But it wasn't just the color or the shape. There was something behind the eyes that flickered now and then. Something that wasn't exactly angry but not full of angst either. It was bitterer with maybe a small flit of regret now and then. Like dark sadness that makes your soul cry, not your eyes.

Roy waved the feeling off. He was being too psychological for even his own tastes. He was probably just seeing things, too. This was the first time he had ever seen Edward. How could he be familiar?

Roy firmly decided that he was getting sleep this night, no matter how much Ed screamed.

Al had stopped talking, staring at a fixated place behind Roy. The human took notice of this and quickly turned his head, jumping out of the way just in time to avoid a craftsman's hammer from crushing his skull in. Al leapt back into the cage, wincing as the hammer bounced off the bars with a resonating whine. The sound echoed in his sensitive ears and blocked out any other possible sound, including Ed's howl of auditory pain.

Roy in turn had smacked himself against his desk and was now rubbing his very bruised back. He frowned and turned again to the doorway facing the culprit who had thrown it.

Mistress Winry.

Roy hastily made himself presentable, standing up and straightening his shirt. He almost stuttered, but was cut off as a group of other young ladies hurried down the corridor and immediately tramped him. The other girls now fussed over Winry, who was desperately trying to escape the crowd. Roy weakly protested, his head smugly squished between his floor and some silk shoes, and Ed and Al were left to wonder what the hell was going on.

"Miss Winry, you mustn't leave us behind!"

"Miss Winry, you are utterly not presentable! Please do not leave first before consulting us!"

"Miss Winry, please don't throw things at other people! And don't steal from the craftsman, as a side-note!"

"Miss Winry! Are you visiting a man while wearing a _working_ dress? Shame on you!"

"Miss Winry, you're not allowed to wear those shoes outside the castle! Please, wear these instead!"

It took the entire group ten minutes to notice that Winry was gone and was currently running as fast as she could through the garden in a desperate attempt to escape.

The mass of feminine bodies surged and was gone as quickly as it came.

Roy grunted and slowly sat up, glaring after them and rubbing his right cheek where the imprint of a shoe was clearly seen. He stood up and locked the door as a precaution, turning his attention back on the elves. Al was looking quizzically out the window into the garden where the unwanted entourage chased, as one, after a single fleeing figure that jumped a hedge and disappeared into the marketplace and was seen no more. Ed rubbed his ears where the high pitched squealing of the group still echoed, frowning as the sudden silence caused an unpleasant ringing. He shook his head but only managed to cause the blood to rush to it. This put Ed in an even worse mood than before.

"Who was she?" Al asked, now turning his attention to Roy.

"Mistress Winry, princess of Amestris and heir to the throne of the land." Roy replied somewhat sourly, still massaging his sore cheek.

"Heh, seems like a spoiled brat to me! Who does she think she is, showing up uninvited and with a group of THOSE people?" Ed snarled, still trying to clear his head of the insistent ringing. "And she throws a boulder of a hammer and manages to damage our hearing! What a bitch…"

Roy could only shrug.

"Think what you like, Edward. But be thankful you aren't a citizen of the land and I'm not a tattletale or else you'd be executed for treason. And I'd suspect that it'd be a painful death because the archers would keep missing. You're such a small target, after all."

Ed bristled. The human… he addressed him directly! And at the same time managed to insult him! Stupid bastard! Didn't he know his place?! Edward lost his temper again and launched himself at the bars, clawing at Roy from between the bars. He wasn't swift enough, however, and, instead of scratching him across the chest, Ed only managed to rip a bit of the shirt's right shoulder.

The small bit of the shirt fell away to reveal an obvious and gruesome scar. It was only visible for a moment, however, before Roy grimaced and threw a light cloak on, successfully covering it up. It couldn't be forgotten, though. Scars of that caliber were not common at all. There were no medical practices the humans knew that could treat a wound that big. He should have died. Roy should have died, if not from blood loss then from infection. But the portion of pale flesh stood out against Roy's well-tanned body and, from the looks of it, had been very painfully attained.

Like, Ed thought, as if an arrow had punctured him there…

> > > > >

AN: Review responses:

**FmaLover** No, there's no Roy/Ed now. There will be later. And Roy's not going to keep Ed and Al caged up forever! That'd be… horrible! And inhumane! And… (goes off to ramble about the consequences of keeping elves in cages)

**MorurisuShirubi** Well, I'm drawing the elf stuff from mythology and stories. But the language and the customs I'm thinking off the top of my head. If you really love elves you can find a lot of info on them by typing "elves" in google. ; But you've probably already done that…

**Nicholas Perle: **House elves, eh? Interesting… (Is actually quite scared by the prospect of Ed and Al being house elves) But it wasn't exactly the image I had in mind. I was thinking more of the forest elf type, you know? With the tunics and the pointed ears and the… never mind. I'm rambling again.

**To EVERYBODY who reviewed:**

Thank you for reviewing! You made an authoress very happy! Whee! (dances)

**To any other people reading this:**

Thank you for reading this story and all my ramblings. It makes me happy that I can entertain people. Now… Equivalent trade? (puppy dog eyes)


	3. Chapter Three

Of Fire and Alchemy

Disclaimer: Don't own a thing

Warnings: Later Roy/Ed, Havoc/Fury, Al/Winry, Alternate Universe

> > > > >

Chapter Three

> > > > >

Everything was flaming again. It was a sickening mix of red and yellow and orange, the fire licking at everything in sight. Mustang almost shuddered. Was this a remembrance? A memory, perhaps? It was painful. It was shockingly painful. Why was it, when he was dying, the only flashback of his life was the fire? Why? He groaned, shifting to find a break in the fire. It enveloped him, forming a tight sphere around him. Mustang hissed, trying to withdraw from the voracious flames.

But to no avail.

"Hey… you awake yet?"

Mustang heard the voice as a far off summer. It barely penetrated through the flames, hardly reaching his ears. Mustang involuntarily convulsed, trying to find a pathway through the fire to the voice.

"Hey, hey!"

There it was again. Mustang jumped at the voice, desperately trying to find a way out of the flaming sphere. Where was he? How could he get out?

"HEY!"

The last scream shattered the walls around him. Mustang's eyes snapped open and he jumped in his sleep.

Sleep… So he had been sleeping… So the fire he was staring at was… The back of his eyelids.

Mustang groaned, closing his eyes against the harsh summer sun. He squinted a bit at the concerned figure crouched over him. He tried to sit up but his shoulder protested to such an extent he had to lay back down.

"Hey, alright! You're alive!"

The voice, Mustang decided, was far too happy. His shoulder still burned with embers of the fire, and the sun was shining directly into his eyes. Mustang gave a sort of pathetic growl and tried to roll over, but his shoulder prevented him from doing so. The stranger seemed to take a hint, however, and, gently, slid the gargantuan fern leaf Mustang was lying on under a large tree. The cool shade was welcoming and Mustang's vision hazed with fatigue.

However, he turned his attention to the person who rescued him, blearily making out the outline in the sun. He looked normal enough, with his jet black hair and a bit of a beard fringing his square jaw. He was moderately tall, but not too much so. Just the average person. He turned his gaze to Mustang, smiling. He wore thick-rimmed glasses of surprisingly good quality. They magnified his golden yellow eyes and unceremoniously draped themselves over his slightly pointed ears.

The words "Pointed ears" drifted through Mustang's sleep-induced mind, trying to find the latter end of its equation. Mustang's brain, however, wasn't giving it up and the words drifted into oblivion. Just then, the word "Elf" floated across Mustang's mind in the exact same fashion, eventually settling in a dark void. Mustang shot up from his position, gibbering wildly even as his shoulder screamed. The elf glanced at him, alarmed. Mustang pointed towards the elf, still blabbering like a madman. The elf seemed to understand, though, and put up his hands, as if to say "I'm unarmed and innocent."

"I'm not going to hurt you, you know. It would be a wasted effort for me to drag you out of the river and dress that wound if I was going to kill you later anyhow."

Mustang quieted down, considered this, and glanced at the pink-stained bandages wrapped around his shoulder.

"Thanks." He finally said, avoiding the elf's gaze.

"I'm Hughes, by the way. Maes Hughes. Who are you?"

"Mustang. Just… Mustang."

> > > > >

Ever since Al had learned Roy's name, he had been suspicious.

Now, after seeing the scar, he was almost certain. That man really was Roy Mustang, the famous _human_ alchemist. Al's eyes had widened in shock at first revelation of the scar, but they now returned to normal size, still staring critically at Roy. The man had denied his name. Why? There was no reason for him to. If anything, he should be boasting about his achievement. Usually, only elves were entitled to the use of alchemy. Roy Mustang was a human alchemist. Everything fit: His name, his scar, his appearance, and especially, his eyes.

Al had first almost shuddered when those eyes were studying him. There was something about those eyes… they were somewhat angry, yes, but had a flicker of maybe… angst? Al wondered. It was sort of bitter, too, as if he was constantly recalling a bad memory and inwardly grimacing. Almost like a black sadness, a spirit sadness.

Al brushed the feeling off. Edward may have been right; he analyzed things too much. But he digressed. He was now almost certain that man was Roy Mustang. There was no other way he could have gotten that scar. Mustang seemed to be reading Al's mind, however, and bitterly smiled at him.

"It was a stupid accident," He said. "A rebel leader had tried to fight me off with a sword. He managed to carve out a bit of my shoulder out, but it was worth it to capture him."

Al feigned accepting that but did not drop his suspicion. He said nothing, however, leaving it to his brother to do the talking.

For once, Ed remained silent. He was breathing heavily, gaze still fixated on the spot where the scar should have been. When he did speak, his voice was surprisingly quiet.

"You got the help of an elf, didn't you?" Edward hissed. "You humans couldn't have fixed a wound like that so well. You had help. That's a wound dressed by an elf."

"What the hell are you talking about? The only contact I've had with elves is with you two."

"You're lying!" Ed bellowed, glaring daggers, spears, swords, arrows, and other pointy objects at Roy. Roy only stared back, expressionless.

"Am I?"

His tone took Edward by surprise. The human was too confident for his own good. Ed was sure of it. Roy had the help of an elf. A traitor elf. The rules stipulated that there must be minimal contact between humans and elves; only a traitor would actually help a human. Ed shook with anger and clenched his hands around the metal bars.

For the first time, Roy noticed a glint of… something shiny from under Ed's long sleeves and white gloves. He stared at Ed's right arm, pulling it forward and pushing the sleeve up. Ed gave a howl of anger and quickly drew his arm back. But Roy had seen enough.

"Your arm… I read about it once… it's automail, isn't it?"

Ed didn't answer and was staring at a place behind Roy again. The human took this as a hint and, once again, leapt out of the way. Edward had learned his lesson by now, and the elf clapped his hands to his ears, dodging the other way. Al was left right open. He yelped and threw himself back, wincing again as a mining pick embedded itself into the wall not half a foot away from his neck. Al gulped as Winry, her dress mucky and hair messy from running, stomped in the room and glared at Roy directly in the eyes. The door was unlocked from the outside, a key stuck in the lock's hole.

"You… You!" She growled. "You are so inhumane!"

Roy blinked.

"I can't believe you're keeping elves in your room! I thought you researched them; you should know they can't stand closed in spaces! And in cages, no less!"

Al looked up. Ed stared. Roy was unresponsive, coolly accepting the rant with no hint of expression.

"Princess, you know that these elves were the ones causing trouble in the marketplace. If they were let free, they would surely do it again."

"That's beside the point! You could have at least taken them outside or something. Being locked up in a cage in a room is just…"

Winry trailed off, staring at Ed who was trying to hastily pull down his sleeve.

"Is that… automail?" She asked, abandoning her rant. Ed glared at her but moved his head down and up a fraction of an inch. "Can-Can I see it?" She ventured forth, eyes growing wide at the prospect of examining it up close. Ed could only glare, clutching his right arm possessively and snarling something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "Fuck off." Winry paid no attention. "Please? Please? Pleeeeeaaaaase?" She whined, reaching inside the cage.

Al had an idea. He jumped forward and pulled the sleeve to the shoulder, pushing Edward forth. Ed stumbled into the front of the cage, and would have whipped around to scream at Al if Winry didn't have his arm is such a vise-like grip. Ed growled possessively and pulled back. Winry noticed another glint of metal on his left leg and dropped the arm, catching Ed's foot instead. Ed yelped and fell back, his head hitting the bottom of the cage as Winry gushed over his automail.

"It's so detailed! And strong! Where did you get automail like this? I didn't know elves were such good craftspeople!"

_"I can't believe you, Al!"_ Ed screamed in Elvish._ "What the hell did you do that for?!"_

_"Brother, she may be the person who will set us free. Be nice to her and get on her good side and we may be let out of this cage. She is princess, after all."_

_"I can't believe you'd just sell your brother out like that! So what if she's a princess? That gives her no right to just come in here and start molesting me!"_

_"She's not molesting you, brother. You're overreacting again. She's just studying your automail."_

_"She's cooing! What is she, a bird?!"_

_"Look, she's happy!"_

_"SO?!"_

Ed, infuriated and slightly blushing, ripped his leg out of Winry's grip. He tried to scramble away, but Winry huffed in indignation and grabbed Edward's leg before he could move far. The elf fell again and Winry pulled Edward forward as far as she could. Ed, surprised by the movement, was easily dragged along the cage floor until his crotch unceremoniously slammed into one of the metal bars. Edward, straddling the bar, gave a small, strangled squeak and went rigid, his eyes crossed. Al winced, but Winry didn't seem to notice.

It took a while, but Edward regained his sense of movement and stumbled back again, leaning against the wall with distrustful eyes. Winry stood and briskly walked over to Roy, snatching the keys away from his belt. Roy frowned and snatched them back.

"Do you actually plan on keeping these guys here forever?" She snapped at him, making another grab for the keys.

"No, but it's my duty to make sure the Amestris is peaceful, and the villages near here aren't going to be very safe with a couple of troublemaking elves running around." Roy responded, pulling the keys away.

A rumble was heard in the distance.

Roy looked out the window in surprise. Was there going to be another thunderstorm? No, there wasn't a single cloud outside. And it couldn't be an earthquake; everything was standing still. Al and Ed's ears twitched, straining to find the source of the strange sound. Winry had frozen, the sound of squealing and shoes pounding on the floor familiar to her.

The rumbling grew louder. Roy slammed the door shut, locking it again. Then he remembered…

"Oh fuck… I didn't take the key out of the outside lock hole…"

The door swung wide open, sending Roy flying backwards again and into a bookshelf this time. Winry momentarily forgot the elves and made a dash for the open window. She managed to fly out of it just in time, hitting the ground running. The group of fashion freaks shrieked in anger, slamming the door shut again and thundering down the hallway.

Roy picked himself up with a groan, rubbing the back of his head where he'd hit it on the bookcase. He frowned as a book from the top fell out and hit the ground with a _thud_. Roy glared at the cover of it, picking it off the floor.

"Hey! Wait a minute!"

Roy looked up as Edward pointed to the book, a shocked and angry look on his face.

"That… where the hell did you get that book?" Ed shrieked, gesticulating wildly to the common cover. Roy frowned and turned it over in his hands, staring across the cover. The title was something in Elvish, its code complex. This was one of the books that Roy had been trying to translate, possibly even decode, but he had given up after a few months. So he shrugged and replaced the book, barely responding.

"What are you talking about? If I wanted to hear nonsense I'd have just fed you Oran berries. Now stop blabbering; you're almost confusing me."

Roy glared icily but Ed did not back down. On the contrary he seemed to flare a little, but didn't respond otherwise. The golden-eyed elf, snarling, threw himself down beside his brother, almost screeching with anger.

_"Did you see that Al? Did you see that?!"_

Al was quiet, his face pale. Where had the human gotten that book? What did he want with it?"

_"Yes, brother, I saw it… But why would the human have it?"_

_"How should I know?!"_

_"Perhaps… there is more to this human than we know, brother."_

Ed stopped at Al's tone. He turned and gave a haughty glare at Roy, who was watching them with a look of curiosity, possibly wonder.

_"Why would a human need a book on Alchemy?"_

_"I don't know, brother. I said, there is more to this __Roy__ than we know. Maybe we-"_

Al was cut off as the door swung open again and a young boy staggered in. He was clothed in a simple but, at the same time, pretty green tunic, with a thin pair of glasses balanced precariously on his nose. He was balancing a stack of scrolls, and a winged chimera followed him. The chimera was black with a white face and stomach, and white paws as well. It looked like a mix between a dog, and an owl… or was it a swan? It had a pair of cloud-white wings sprouting from between its shoulderblades and flapped around the boy's head happily.

"Hello, Fury." Roy said, lightening the boy's load. Fury unceremoniously dropped the rest of the scrolls on Roy's desk in a messy fashion, wincing as a few dropped and became unfurled.

"Hello, Colonel. These are from Warrant Officer Farman, um… he requests that you look at them as quickly as you can." Fury stuttered, bowing quickly and retreating, the chimera in tow. Roy waited until the young scholar was out of sight and then swept the scrolls off his desk and into a small cabinet. He'd take a look at them later, he decided.

A blue-gold one suddenly caught his eye and he pulled it apart from the other pieces of white parchment. What was this? Roy quickly untied the ribbon, his eyes scanning over the message quickly, then cursed quietly and threw the colored parchment back into the drawer. He paused at the doorway, looking back at Edward and Alphonse. The brothers were staring at him in frank curiosity and he grimaced. Was he really going to trust two elves by themselves?

"I've just been called to military duty… So I guess I have to leave you two in here." He paused, searching for a better solution. "I'm not finished interrogating yet. I'll be back soon but don't try anything, or I'll know about it and make your lives a living hell." He playfully threatened, then walked out of the doorway.

Ed almost grinned. Stupid, naïve human…

> > > > >

AN: I know there's not much of a plot yet, but it'll get better. I promise. Oh, and just so you know, the sidestory has almost absolutely nothing to do with the real story. It's just there because… well, it's Mustang's history. I should have updated last week… so sorry to all my reviewers. Come back! I love you! Well, anyhow, stay tuned to chapter 4. I'll update ASAP, I promise.


	4. Chapter Four

Of Fire and Alchemy

Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did own something, why do you think I would be sitting here writing this shit?

> > > > >

When he had first seen him, Mustang certainly suspected something. Hughes was different from any elf he had ever studied, in all his years laboring over his work. He wasn't blond, he wasn't aggressive towards humans, and, above all, _Hughes could not perform alchemy_. Granted, he had the pointed ears and the "one with nature" personality, but he was not an alchemist, and that made him stand out.

Now Mustang finally figured it out: Hughes was a half-breed. The human wasn't exactly sure how he found the time to figure this out, since most of the time he was either talking to Hughes about some random subject or floating in his own little happy place, induced by the natural painkillers and drugs to dull the pain. But the fact still stood that one of Hughes's parents was not an elf.

Parents… this brought the first coherent memory back to Mustang. He remembered how, when he was younger, his entire family had gone to the shores of Aerugo almost every summer. There was the perfect place to climb and play on: a jutting rock that was covered up when the tide came in. It provided as a place for him to hold on to if the tide current ever tried to carry him off, despite being slippery with various algae growing on it. When the tide went down the rock was exposed again, and it stood, prominent and tall among the dips and bowls the tide had made continuously coming in and out.

It was a mountain close up, but from far away it looked sort of like a sturdy sea monster washed up on shore, but still formidable. When it was partially covered by the tide it looked as if it was poking its head from the water, checking to see if the coast was clear before emerging full and proud, standing itself to the greatest it could be when the tide was completely out.

At first, when the painkillers had just been introduced to him, Mustang thought it made the pain disappear, then reappear when the feelings had worn off. But now he could compare it to the great serpent rock in the Aerugion shore. The painkillers washed over the pain and hid it beneath a pleasurable feeling of pure numbness, and Mustang could be peaceful. But then the tide went out and the sea monster poked its ugly head from the once calm feeling.

With his ruined shoulder and busted ankle, Mustang couldn't go anywhere soon. True, the potions and attention Hughes was giving him was helping, but his recovery was still too slow. Within a few more weeks, possibly even days, he would be discovered and taken prisoner. But Hughes had told him not to worry, that he'd take care of everything. For some reason, Mustang could not find it in himself to trust the half-breed, though Hughes was now his lifeline. Hughes was the source of the potions and the care. Hughes was responsible for bringing the tide in to cover the rocky pains. Hughes was the moon now and he relied on him.

Then, one day, the moon didn't show up in Mustang's sky.

> > > > >

The rebels really were getting the better of the situation.

Roy sprinted from the office as dignified as he could and snatched his famous sword from its place in the weaponry wall. He flew in a whirlwind into the nexus of the knot of rebels, straight into the tumor of the problem. The group shrieked in surprise as he dove from the above balcony of the nearest store and into the middle of their circle. Before they could recover Roy had killed three and wounded seven. They reeled back into the main crowd and disappeared from his sight.

These kinds of fights always left a bad taste on Roy's tongue, always. He didn't like killing, and he never liked the feeling of blood on his fingers and splattering on his clothes. It was one of the hardest stains to get out and the rustic color that remained for a long time afterward served as a constant reminder of the incident. If anything, he had learned that the red blood mixed with the cornflower blue of his uniform did not mix into a fetching shade of violet but instead dried into a vomit-inducing shade of a mahogany color, more brown than red.

Now the blood doused his uniform, splaying across it in intricate fashions that promised the laundry workers hell. But now the inner circle was fighting back, realizing that this battle was only against one person. What a fool, jumping into the middle of their fight without reinforcements! Surely, he yearned for the afterlife. He was insanely outnumbered, they could see that.

They didn't know that he insanely outmatched their entire force. Roy was small, and he was much, much faster than one would expect. The shining sword blade flashed here and there dangerously, then was gone in a wild spurt of warm liquid. People were mowed down before their brains had time to react to the warning, threatening glimmer of the sword.

"The Lightning Demon! The Lightning Demon!" The rebels shrieked, moving away from the dangerous figure until there was a clear ten foot circular space between Roy and the rebels. They drew back hesitatingly, not wanting to be the next to fall at the mighty swordsman. He glared around intensely, his vision splattered by the tinted red of the lifefluid that covered everything.

"Your leader! Let me fight your leader!" He called into the huddled crowd. This provoked nothing more than frightened murmurs and even more drawing back. Roy repeated his request several times before conceding to the fact that he would not be able to get into contact with the leader. So he'd have to break up the crowd now, and he knew just how to do that. Roy withdrew from its holster a gun, a handpistol at that. The rebels drew away, their eyes reflecting the fear stabbing into their thoughts. Gunpowder was only recently invented, and this man, this _demon_ man, held a useful amount in the palm of his hand.

There was a tense silence. Roy shot two rounds into the air and the crowd dissolved immediately, like a small spoon of sugar in a large glass of water. There was utter panic and confusion for a few minutes, then total quiet as the marketplace was emptied of anyone, rebels or not. Another rebellion settled by the famous leader of the military. The top dog.

With a shrug Roy left the battlefield, sheathing the now-rustic sword. He stumbled back into his room and immediately walked out again.

The room, it was in total chaos. Roy wasn't sure how the Elves had gotten out at first: this was not the very first time they had been left alone for over half an hour, thought it certainly was the longest time. Oh well, that didn't matter now. To put it simply, it was devastated, and Roy could guess by an entire army of one Edward. Curtains were shredded, the windows shattered. His desk was splintered into firewood and all the stuffing in his goose-feather mattress had been torn out and thrown in fistfuls across the room. The pillows were burst and hung limply, the floor cluttered with various junk and stuff, and the paint scratched off the walls with angry, one-handed rakes at it.

Roy supposed that he liked the back wall the best, the one he'd be forced to stare at if he had continued to sit at his splintered desk. On it was transmuted the collars and a hair-pin that Roy immediately knew where it came from. Damn that woman and her humanity preaching. Edward had also taken the liberty to scrawl "YOU GOT FUCKED BY THE GREAT AND MIGHTY EDWARD ELRIC" in bright red paint against the scrabbled white. In smaller, neater writing was "Please leave us alone from now on" under it, undoubtedly written by Alphonse.

Roy confirmed it was paint, according to the fact that the rest of the bucket had been splashed around his room, adding to the previous white the _wonderful_ color that was currently across his entire uniform. Roy was tired and stared around his room, uncaring.

But suddenly he was angry. He didn't want to see red anymore, he didn't want to be reminded of how blood-stained his hands were, he knew already. In his fit he rolled up the ruined mattress, which had taken the brunt of the paint, and shoved it outside his door, slamming the cracked wood shut and hearing a mournful whine from the bent hinges. On second thought he stripped off his blood-stained clothes and threw them outside too, finding a surprisingly un-killed corner and curling up catlike in his boxers, trying to sleep even though he knew he wouldn't be able to with the red letters on the wall right across from him. So he turned to the corner, not caring if his bare back was exposed to the fatality of the cold Amestrian nights. But the letters remained imprinted in the back of his mind, just as the face of every person he had killed had.

> > > > >

Edward and Alphonse raced back to their territory, hearts pumping wildly with the joy of the newly gained freedom. The wind whistled through Al's short blond hair, oh, how he had missed that feeling in those weeks of capture. Still, he couldn't help but feel slightly guilty of the state in which the room was left in, but of course, he couldn't go back now. They were too close to their territory now, too close that to turn away now would be considered treachery, spying.

Edward bounded ahead of Al, his mind free of all thoughts except what was on the dinner menu tonight. He was speckled with red paint and the vandalism had sparked a small flame of mischief in his heart: that was fun and he hoped the bastard was now suffering because of their little prank. Ha, the fuckwit deserved it. Damn human, requesting to learn alchemy? Ha! As if! He would be considered a prodigy if he could transmute a simple toy out of the mud; he'd never be able to fully master their techniques.

Ed's mind was shunted away from that train of thought as the village lights neared and the faint sounds of the evening reached the brother's sensitive ears. They slowed their paces and seemed nonchalant at the first glance. A closer look revealed anxiety, nervousness, wonder. How would the elves accept their appearance? Or even worse, their disappearance? Elves that wandered away from their respective tribes for too long were eventually banished, shunned from their villages.

The comforting noises stopped as Ed and Al entered the village square, paint-speckled and mud-caked. The various elves stopped and stared, some hurrying away, others keeping their ground. Their faces all had the same bewildered look, mixed with a bit of fear. Neither Elric could figure out why. Unless… had they already been banished! Al's heart leapt into its throat with a strained croak and the younger's breathing grew shallower. Ed didn't seem to notice and took a stepforward.

"What, surprised to see us? You knew we'd be back sometime." He said, feigning cluelessness to the intensity of the situation. Nobody answered him.

Just then, a young elf hurried forward and stared up at him with large, curious eyes. She said what the adults had been holding back, what Ed and Al could never have noticed.

"You smell like humans."

> > > > >

It was a nightmare, a hideous, horrible, nightmare. Roy was surrounded by the angry rebels, but they were all faceless, nameless. They were in a circle, chanting something that Roy really couldn't understand. He was weak, curled up naked on the floor in the center of the circle, weaponless, open to the jeering shouts and the angry calls. He noticed suddenly that his hands were bound behind his back, his feet tied with a heavy rope. He called out feebly for backup but there was none: he was an island in an ocean of rebels.

A tall figure strode out of the crowd and walked right to him, kicked him in the stomach. Roy went flying back, unsupported by anything. He tried straining against the ropes but they held tightly, unyielding. He turned his back to the man, just in time to feel a sharpened blade plunge through his shoulder and spearing his sleep.

Roy woke screaming, only to find that his dream was a reality, well, almost. He craned his neck and saw the figure from his dream over him. The figure's shorsword was plunged into Roy's shoulder up to the hilt, and, ironically enough, it was the same shoulder with the previous scar on it. The figure's eyes glowed a crimson red with cold fury and the last thing Roy could see before he blacked out from blood loss was that there was an entire crew behind him ready to hoist the general into the cart below where he would undoubtedly be taken prisoner for a short while, then tortured for information, then slowly and painfully murdered.

The last thing Roy thought before his mind bucked on him was "Whoop de doo."

> > > > >

AN: I fell really guilty about not updating sooner, guys, I'm sorry. I've been busy like you wouldn't believe for the past few weeks and I haven't been able to update much. Well, that's about the size of it…. Uh... yeah. I don't have much to say except that the main plot will actually begin soon! Yay! So, what happened to Hughes? Will Ed and Al be accepted again into their society? And what's going to happen to Roy? I know, I'm leaving you with a cliffhanger, but hey, it's not like anyone's actually reading this so… yeah. I'll update when possible. Promise.


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